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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042253">Forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/macandcaseus/pseuds/macandcaseus'>macandcaseus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Love that Comes With [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys &amp; Sophism (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, kym is adorable and doesn't know what's coming for her, they own my soul, william overthinks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/macandcaseus/pseuds/macandcaseus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will takes this time, crouched in front of the oven, hidden behind the counter, to press his hand to the ring box in his pocket.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Hawkes &amp; Kym Ladell, William Hawkes/Kym Ladell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Love that Comes With [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/livbean/gifts">livbean</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIV :LOSINGMYMIND: I ADORE YOU</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kym hums as she walks around the table, placing silverware at each of the eight seats in preparation for her birthday dinner, straightening the napkins and placemats just so. Will watches her hips swaying to her music, smiling to himself before peeking into the oven, the smell of onion and garlic filling the kitchen as he checks to be sure the chicken isn’t burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes this time, crouched in front of the oven, hidden behind the counter, to press his hand to the ring box in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been there all day. After breakfast, Kym had suggested they go for a walk to a nearby park before heading to get some last-minute groceries.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The park,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will had thought. They’d gone there multiple times on dates, for picnics, strolls in the evening, listening to the various musicians who set up there, more often than not dancing to the music. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can propose there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had walked to the park hand in hand, and if Kym noticed how his palm had a touch more sweat than usual, she didn’t comment on it. They visited the pond, where she claimed to be appreciating the ducks, to which he joked that she was just terrorizing them. But, with the sun shining and the temperature rising, the park was busier than usual, and he didn’t want to propose anywhere too public—he didn’t want her to feel pressured to say yes beneath the eyes of strangers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost did, though, at one point. She had just returned to him after trying to chase down a duck before it escaped into the water, and her face was flushed, hair tousled by the wind, her glowing smile throwing light over him, pulling a smile onto his face as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No success?” he had asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” she answered, crossing her arms and cocking her hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess it just goes to show you can’t make them like you by chasing after them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, grinning. “Worked with you, though,” she said before reaching up on tiptoes to kiss him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter how many times they had kissed—he had lost count long ago. Every single one sent electricity through his veins, pulsing through his heart, and he had no choice but to pull her as close to him as possible, losing himself in her touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she stepped away, his hand slipped into his pocket, and he would have brought the box out if he had not realized just how many people were around the pond—not paying attention to them, of course, but as soon as someone goes down on one knee, it’s suddenly everyone’s business.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After the park, they had made their way to a nearby grocery store. Will always preferred buying bread the day it was made and the newest cuts of meat possible when they had people over. With the bread and meat aquired, Kym led them to the wine section—though Will had a whole collection of cabernets, pinot noirs and grigios, and chardonnays at home, Kym was concerned that Lukas, surprisingly the biggest wine snob of the eight that would be at dinner, wouldn’t find any of Will’s selections up to his standards. She meandered down the aisles, picking up bottles and examining the labels, asking Will what he thought of each one, pursing her lips and shaking her head before setting them back. He laughed when she couldn’t reach the higher shelves, and when she pouted at him, he would take down the bottles she wanted to look at and return them when she was done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, she settled on a bottle after Will reassured her it would be one Lukas would enjoy and that they already had enough for Lila, Lauren, Kieran, and her parents to choose from when they arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that everything, then?” she asked, peering into the basket hooked on Will’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so. Let me get my wallet from my—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kym smiled, leaning toward him and slipping her hand into his pocket—the pocket with the ring. Will’s heart stopped, he grabbed her wrist, and fought to keep his expression playful. “Wrong one, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oops, sorry.” She reached around him, taking his wallet from his other pocket and heading for the checkout, and he sighed, relieved. A grocery store proposal would have been memorable, but … it wasn’t what he had in mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the walk back home, instead of running through the list of everything he had to do to prepare the meal they would be making, all he could think of was the ring. Everything they passed made him think, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could propose here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But they were carrying bags, he didn’t want to propose in front of a pile of garbage, and again, so many people were everywhere … nothing felt right.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just do it at home. In a place you can control your environment,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will thought, the words repeating through his mind with each step, her fingers laced through his keeping him grounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t control his environment as much as he thought he’d be able to at home. Kym wanted to clean up the living room before people arrived, and he didn’t want to distract her from her self-assigned task—though it would’ve been hard to, with how quickly she flit around the house, somehow making the already fairly neat space even more presentable for their guests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you do this to your desk at work, hm?” he had asked, and she rolled her eyes at him, skipping to boop his head with the duster, and before he could catch her in his arms, she danced away again, swiping the piano, sending a glissando of notes through the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to be pressing pretty hard to do that with a duster, Kym,” he said, pointing at her. “I don’t want you hurting those keys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I would never, Willame,” she said with a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow. “You better not,” he said before walking back into the kitchen to begin dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When she’s done cleaning, I’ll do it then.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But when she finished, she poked her head into the kitchen to announce that she was going to shower. “You can come with, if you’d like,” she said, a cat-like grin spreading across her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pointed at the pans sizzling on the stove. “Sorry, love, but I can’t abandon the meal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pouted, playfully, but he could’ve sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>But apparently you can abandon </span>
  </em>
  <span>this</span>
  <em>
    <span> meal,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as she headed to the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could I—” he whispered to himself before shaking his head. “No. No. What? I’m not proposing to her in the shower. Jesus, Will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the kitchen filled with the sound and smell of sizzling chicken, he went over the words he had planned for the thousandth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You make me laugh every time I need to, even when I don’t think I do. You are the brightest light I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I can’t help but being drawn to you, to the warmth that just radiates from you at all times. I’m happy when I think of you, but I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>overjoyed</span>
  <em>
    <span> when we’re together. And I want to be together for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me, Kym Ladell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. Something like that, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand went to his pocket again, pinching his thumbpad between the lid of the box, trying to swallow as he thought of kneeling before her, waiting for her response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite Lauren’s constant reassurances that she would say yes, he couldn’t help but be anxious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the chicken and sauce were off of the stovetop and in the oven, he took a deep breath. It would cook in there for an hour and a half, and by the time it was done, their guests should be arriving. He took a deep breath, resting his hands on the countertop before letting the breath out, pushing his fingers through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to get changed,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kym’s probably out of the shower by now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Upstairs, he walked into their room, turning to look at the vanity, where Kym sat, holding different pairs of earrings up to her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was your shower?” he asked, walking over to kiss her still-damp hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” she said, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck, tilting her head back, and he kissed her pursed lips, upside down, and they smiled against each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like your outfit,” he said, standing up, placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the sleek, olive-green material of her shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why thank you, sir,” she said. She held up the two earrings she had between her fingers. “Which do you think I should wear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pointed at the simple gold bar that dangled in one hand. “Those ones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned, patting his cheek. “You’re just saying that because you got them for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she found its match and put them on, he crossed to the closet, flipping through his shirts. “Kym, which?” he asked, pulling out a wine-colored shirt and a dusty blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pursed her lips, hand on her chin, eyes flicking between them. “The blue,” she said. “The red might look too much like Christmas with mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair.” He unbuttoned the white shirt he had been wearing all day, and when he turned to drop it in the hamper, he caught her staring at him in the mirror, and a grin spread across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you, Miss Ladell, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a piece of meat,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her, prompting her to burst into laughter. He bent to press a kiss to her cheek, then another, and she laughed harder as he kissed all over her face and neck, turning in her seat to get her arms around him easier. He kissed her lips, tasting her laughter on his tongue until it faded and she was kissing him back, her fingers trailing over his chest, lazy, taking the path he had grown used to her brushing over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When their kiss slowed and he pulled back, their eyes level, watching each other, her warm amber seeping into him, he almost took the ring from his pocket right then—but he still needed to put his shirt on, and he didn’t want to catch her off guard in the middle of getting ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll leave you to finish here,” he said, standing, pulling his shirt on and buttoning it after dropping the other one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be down in a bit,” she said, turning back to the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back downstairs, Will checked the time on the oven—still over an hour to go, with their guests expected to arrive a little before then.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have to do it, whether I think the moment is perfect or not</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Kym came downstairs, they opened a bottle of wine and she got to work on some hors d’oeuvres for appetizers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t distract her while she’s doing that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, glancing at the countdown on the oven. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’ll be done in a few minutes. I can wait until then.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But once she finished them and cleaned up, rinsed her hands off, and set the hors d’oeuvres on the table, she immediately went to work setting the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which brings Will to the present, thoughts tumbling through his mind, heart hammering in his chest, ring box clutched in his hand as he rises to check the time on the oven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forty-five minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her back is to him, straightening the final fork, surveying the table to make sure it all looks nice. Nerves flutter from his stomach up to his throat, heart hammering as he bends to his knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lowered behind her, in the moment before she realizes he’s there, he watches her. Her legs, planted as she leans over the chair. Her waist, the loose fabric of her shirt shifting around her. The short strands at the base of her scalp, ever-so-slightly curled, the memory of their feather-softness sliding through his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat, and his stomach flips when she turns, head tilted up—of course, she usually </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look up when she looks at him—eyes widening as they drop to where he’s kneeling. Her mouth falls open, chest rising in a gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kym,” he says, the words he’s rehearsed spinning through his mind as he brings his hand from his pocket, box ready to open to her, “You—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she shrieks, arms flying around him, and he’s so taken aback that he falls under the weight of her, shouting in shock before she peppers his face in kisses, cheeks squished between her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“K—” he tries to say, breath still knocked out of him, only able to get a few sounds out in the brief seconds when Kym’s lips aren’t on his. “Kym— Kym!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite it all, he’s smiling. Of course he is, how could he not, with this ball of sunshine showering her warmest rays on him, lifting herself away from him to beam, eyes watery, letting out glee-shaken laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kym,” he says, again, not that he’s ever tired of saying her name. “I love you so much. But can I please get through what I wanted to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says, sniffling, wiping her eyes before pushing herself up. Will rights himself, clearing his throat, glancing up at her, fists clenched together in front of her chin, bouncing on her toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “I … I had a plan of things to say. But … to hell with it. Kym Ladell,” he says, opening the box to show the glittering ring, watching as more tears fall from her eyes and she quickly wipes them away. “Will you marry me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says, quieter, nodding, smiling as she presses her hands to her eyes, catching her tears. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will. Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He holds out his hand, waiting for her to collect herself, and when she sees him, she places her hand in his, breath shaking as he slides the ring onto her finger. His chest is tight, and it isn’t until he lifts her hand, kissing her ring, her knuckles, moving to kiss her wrist, her hummingbird pulse fluttering against his lips, that his own tears spill out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls him to his feet, and they take each other in their arms, meeting in a salt-tinged kiss, Will’s shoulders shaking as he pulls her close and lifts her, spinning and laughing against her mouth, her breath dancing along his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” she’s saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he repeats it back to her, an echo that he knows will never fade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re still clinging to each other, kissing across their faces, their necks, their hands as their tears slow, their breaths even out, but their hearts remain pounding in their chests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Will says, brushing her hair out of her face and leaning to kiss her spot at the corner of her eye, “you’re ready to be Mrs. Hawkes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out another sob, burying her face in his chest. “Yes. I’m so ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says, again, never tired of telling her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stand, her head on his chest, his bent over hers, holding each other and swaying, the remaining gentle sniffles and shaking breaths gradually fading. He breathes her in, that intoxicating, familiar scent—floral, yes, but undercut with something sharp, a spice that only had to land on his tongue once before he was addicted—and he tightens his arms around her, shivering as her fingers curl against his back, bundling his shirt in her grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ding ding</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looks up, at the door, then the time on the oven. “Someone’s early,” he says, wiping his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kym laughs. “Of course they are. Are you surprised?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “I guess not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The door’s open!” Kym shouts, not letting go of Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swings open to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Ladell, and Kym flies to them, arms out for hugs before holding out her hand, to which Mrs. Ladell shrieks, much like her daughter, clapping her hands to her mouth before tears fall down her grinning cheeks, crossing to hug Will as Mr. Ladell takes his daughter in his arms, ruffling her hair. When Will walks over to greet him, Mr. Ladell holds out his arms, and Will accepts his hug, heart clenching as Mr. Ladell says, “Welcome to the family, son,” patting his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Ladell and Kym are already tossing ideas for venues for the wedding, what food they’ll have, and when they should have it between each other by the time the doorbell rings again, and Will opens it to see Lauren and Kieran, grinning, them each holding a small bag stuffed with tissue paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lauren!” Kym shouts when her best friend enters, jumping over the couch to shove her hand in her face, and it only takes a moment before both are shouting incoherencies at each other, arms flung around their shoulders. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos, Kieran manages to grab the bag from Lauren’s hand, setting them on the couch before Kym pulls him into the hug and shouts for Will to join them, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he does, his heart full as his friend’s arms encircle him, and he presses against Kym—his </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiancé—</span>
  </em>
  <span>letting Lauren and Kieran’s congratulations wreath them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And before they can break away from the hug, the doorbell rings again before opening, Lukas stepping in and halting when he sees them all clustered in the entryway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lukas, keep going!” Lila says, ducking behind him, her eyes lighting up when she sees the group hug. “Oh! What’s going on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kym manages to pull her arm from the tangle of limbs, and when Lila sees the sparkling gem on her finger, she gasps and joins the group, and the laughter starts all over again. Once the group hug dissolves, Lukas offers Kym and Will each a single pat on the shoulder and an almost-smile before making his way back to Lila’s side, their gift for Kym  still clutched in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once everyone starts to move into the kitchen at Kym’s directions, telling them to start on the hors d’oeuvres, Will takes this moment of respite, as everyone else busies themselves with starting conversations with one another and picking up their share of the appetizer, to take Kym’s hand and pull her to him. The ring, already warm on her, presses between his fingers, and he smiles before bending to kiss her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, tracing his jaw, letting herself go still for a beat as they catch this moment of silence before rejoining their guests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday, by the way,” he whispers into her lips</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs before pecking the tip of his nose. “Best birthday gift ever,” she whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods. “Spending the rest of my life with you? Yeah. That’s a pretty good gift, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles before kissing her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as much as he’s excited to be with their friends for the evening, make more memories with each one of them, he would happily remain here all night, his lips on hers, her hand on his cheek, the gentle press of the band against his jaw a reminder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re never going to let each other go.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>welp, this was so cute i cried while writing it</p><p>BIG BIG THANK YOU to Jackie who helped me choose how the proposal would go because i had too many ideas &amp; they were all too cute. LOVE U BB &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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